“He is,” said Mazael.
“Damn it,” said Atalia. “I was hoping Malden would send someone else.” She took a deep breath. “Well, let’s get this over with, Sir Mazael.”
“Very well,” said Mazael, offering her his arm.
She blinked at his arm and laughed. “Seriously?”
“Well,” said Mazael, “even rustic, unlettered knights can display courtesy from time to time.”
“As you say, Sir Mazael,” said Atalia, threading her arm through his. “I suppose this also allows you to know the instant I cast a spell?”
“Such a suspicious mind you have,” said Mazael, and she laughed again.
He led her from the bridge, keeping an eye out for more spirit warriors, part of his attention focused upon Atalia. The woman did nothing suspicious, but he felt her tense as they reached the hillside. He suspected that she was not looking forward to seeing Trocend Castleson, and she pulled her arm away as they reached the hilltop.
Mulger and Tollard stood on guard, Trocend pacing back and forth behind them. Gerald watched Mazael with an exasperated expression on his face, and Mazael realized that the boy had seen him with Atalia on his arm. No doubt Gerald would later make his usual speech about how a pious knight lay only with his wife. Trocend stopped his pacing and stared at Atalia, and she folded her arms and stared right back.
“Well,” said Mazael, “it seems like you know each other already, so introductions are unnecessary, but I shall make them anyway. This is Atalia, and it seems Sir Traeger has appointed her to serve as his emissary.”
“I should have known,” said Trocend, shaking his head. “I thought you might be behind this, and I was right.”
Atalia scoffed. “Suspicious and fearful as ever, old man. And, as ever, ready to blame me for the slightest thing that happens to go wrong.”
“You…know her, Brother Trocend?” said Gerald.
“She is a thief from Knightport,” said Trocend, his disdain clear, “the daughter of a whore, and much trouble would have been averted had she gone into that profession herself. Instead she exhibited magical ability, and went to train at the wizards’ college in Alborg. The Brotherhood expelled her for various misdeeds, and she came to study under me, since I thought she might make a useful tool for Lord Malden’s service. Instead she proved unmanageable, and…”
“Unmanageable?” snapped Atalia. “I followed your every command, old man. It is not my fault we botched the business with Lord Randerly’s heir. I followed your plan!”
“You were supposed to be thinking on your feet,” said Trocend. “Had you adapted to the new developments, we…”
“Which, I should point out, is what I am doing here,” said Atalia, her dark eyes flashing with rage. “But you are too blind to see it.”
“Indeed?” said Trocend. “One of Lord Malden’s knights is taken prisoner, phantoms wander through the Stormvales, and you expect me to believe that you are not at fault? I…”
Both Trocend and Atalia kept shouting. Mazael watched them for a moment, and suddenly his remaining patience evaporated.
“Shut up!” he roared at the top of his lungs.
Both Trocend and Atalia gaped at him.
“I don’t give a damn for how much you hate each other,” said Mazael, “and if you want to gripe at each other, I don’t give a damn about that either. Once we have Sir Edmund, you can argue to your heart’s content.” He pointed at Atalia. “Tell me what is going on here, now.”
“This is ridiculous,” said Trocend. “She is likely the cause of it all. I…”
“Shut up,” said Mazael. He pointed at Atalia again. “You. Answers. Now.”
Something almost like gratitude flickered over Atalia’s face. “It’s is not my fault. I admit I came to Castle Highstone looking for magic, yes. I thought it was still abandoned. I had not expected that thug Traeger to have…”
Suddenly a cold wind sprang up, and a wall of gray mist rolled out of the forest.
“Sir Mazael!” said Tollard. “It’s happening again!”
“Defend yourselves!” said Mazael, yanking his sword from its scabbard. Tollard, Mulger, and Gerald drew their weapons, while Trocend and Atalia lifted their hands, blue sparks blazing around their fingers.
Dozens of figures appeared in the mists, armored warriors and mailed swordsmen. This time Mazael saw strange creatures among the warriors, wolves with manes of barbed tentacles, lions with the wings of bats and the tails of scorpions, and other, more grotesque things.
“Focus upon the warriors!” shouted Trocend. “I shall deal with the more powerful creatures.”
He thrust out his hand, and a volley of sparks erupted from his fingers, shredding two of the misshapen wolves into tatters of mist. The wall of gray fog rolled forward, blanketing Mazael. He could not see more than a few yards in any direction before the mist swallowed the light.
Then the warriors crashed into him, raising their spectral weapons. Mazael parried the blows on his shield and struck back, his sword sinking into the phantoms and unraveling them. He hacked and slashed his way through the press until he found Gerald. The phantoms surrounded the boy, threatening to overwhelm him, and Mazael attacked, destroying three of the spirit creatures in quick succession. Gerald offered a quick nod of gratitude, and they started fighting back to back, covering each other. Mazael swept his eyes over the phantoms, seeking for Trocend and the others, but he saw nothing through the mist. Occasionally pulses of blue light flashed in the fog. Trocend’s magic had been enough to drive off the phantoms. Would it be strong enough now? Or would the phantoms kill them all?
Mazael snarled in fury and took the head from another ghostly warrior, rage pulsing through him. If those phantom warriors wanted his life, then they could bloody well try to take it! He would destroy as many of them as he could before…
Suddenly there were no more phantom warriors left.
Mazael spun, seeking new foes, but the fog pulled back from him as quickly as if it had been blown by a gale. He watched as the fog drew into itself, billowing over the bridge and back into Castle Highstone. It was like watching water spiral down a drain.
The mist vanished back into the castle.
“You all right?” said Mazael.
“Aye,” said Gerald. “I am unharmed. I don’t understand what happened.”
“Neither do I,” said Mazael, looking for the others. Atalia stood a short distance away, sweat dripping down her face. There was no sign of Trocend or Mulger or Tollard, and for a grim moment Mazael was sure the spirit creatures had killed them.
Yet there were no bodies. No sign of blood, even.
“What…happened to Trocend and the others?” said Gerald.
“I don’t know,” said Mazael.
“I do,” said Atalia. “I think…I think the spirits took them. I think that Traeger wanted them. I…”
She shook her head, clutching at her side.
“Are you wounded?” said Gerald.
“No,” said Atalia. “I…used too much magic. I’m not that strong. It’s like carrying buckets of bricks up like a flight of stairs. Do it too much, and your stamina fails. I…I…”
Her eyes rolled up into her head, and she started to fall. Mazael cursed, shifted his sword to his shield hand, and caught her with his right arm before she toppled. He grunted, slid his blade into its scabbard, and picked up the unconscious woman with both arms.
“What do we do now?” said Gerald.
That was a very good question.
“Follow me,” said Mazael. “I’ll think of something.”
Chapter 4: The Apprentice
It was nearly dark by the time Atalia regained consciousness.
Mazael led Gerald deeper into the trees, far enough that the light of a fire would not be visible from the castle’s ramparts, but close enough that he could keep an eye upon the castle. Gerald built a fire while Mazael laid Atalia down upon the ground.
“Do you think she’ll be all right?” said Gerald
.
“Probably,” said Mazael. “She’s just exhausted.”
“I didn’t know magic was so tiring,” said Gerald.
“Apparently it is,” said Mazael. “I’m told it’s like wielding a sword, but with your thoughts instead of your hands. Just as the body grows weary, so does the mind.” He shook his head. “I saw this happen with my father’s wizards in the Grim Marches.”
“What will we do now?” said Gerald.
“Well,” said Mazael. “We have no ransom and no wizard. Trocend had the ransom on him. I still don’t understand what’s going on here. She knows.” He jerked a thumb at Atalia. “So when she wakes up, we’ll have a nice little talk and she’ll tell us everything she knows.”
“And if she doesn’t want to talk?” said Gerald.
“I’m very persuasive,” said Mazael.
“What do you think is happening?” said Gerald.
“If I had to guess,” said Mazael, looking at the white tower of Castle Highstone, “that’s a ruin of the Dark Elderborn. There must have been something buried inside it, some relic or artifact of dark magic. Trocend knew about it, but was never able to find it. After Trocend cast Atalia out, she came here in hope of finding it to regain her teacher’s favor.”
“Or in hope of claiming the dark power for herself,” said Gerald.
“That, too,” said Mazael. “Instead she came here and found that Sir Traeger had claimed the power for himself. She’s been here ever since, trying to separate him from the dark magic.”
“In order to warn Trocend?” said Gerald.
“Maybe,” said Mazael. “Or, as you said, she wanted to claim the dark magic for herself.”
“What if she did?” said Gerald.
Mazael shrugged. “Then I’ll kill her.”
Gerald swallowed and said nothing further, and they waited in silence.
At last Atalia groaned and started to stir as the sun dipped below the hills to the west.
Mazael loosened his sword in its scabbard and waited.
Atalia sat up, blinked, and looked around.
“We’re still alive, then?” she said at last, rubbing her head.
“For the moment,” said Mazael. “I rather doubt the afterlife looks like a forest in the Stormvales.”
She looked at his sword. “Are you going to kill me?”
“That would depend,” said Mazael, “on what you tell me next.”
“You want to know what is going on,” said Atalia.
“That,” said Mazael, “and a few other things.” He tapped his sword hilt. “My guess is that you actually woke up some time ago and have been listening to us.” Her face went blank. “A useful trick for a former thief. How much did I get right?”
Atalia sighed. “Do you just pretend to be a thuggish, unlettered knight, or are you really as clever as you seem to be?”
“Maybe both,” said Mazael with a shrug, “and you’re deflecting the question.”
“Very well,” said Atalia. “You were mostly right. I was a thief in Knightport, until my power manifested and a wizard took me to Alborg. I…did not get on well there. I have a problem with rules.”
“Well,” said Gerald, “you and Sir Mazael have something in common, then.”
“After I was expelled, I made my way as a mercenary,” said Atalia, “selling my spells to the highest bidder.” Her mouth twisted. “My mother sold her body, so I suppose I’m not so different from her, am I?”
“Don’t care,” said Mazael, “and it’s not relevant to the army of phantoms in Castle Highstone, is it? You’re deflecting again.”
“Most men fall for that,” said Atalia. “Anyway. Trocend took me in. Thought I might make a useful spy. During one of our journeys, we went past Castle Highstone. Trocend told me that it was an ancient ruin of the Dark Elderborn, that there was a hidden source of dark magic within it.”
“He wanted to claim it?” said Mazael.
“He wanted to destroy it,” said Atalia. “He feared some troublemaker would find it, but he could never find the damned thing. It was too well concealed. Later…Trocend gave me a task in Knightport with Lord Randerly. I followed Trocend’s instructions exactly, but it still went wrong. So he blamed me and cast me out.” Her hand curled into a fist. “It was peculiar, but I enjoyed Lord Malden’s service. It was nice to have a purpose in life beyond simple money. I decided to go to Castle Highstone, find the relic of dark magic, and present it to Trocend in hopes that he would take me back.”
“What happened then?” said Mazael.
Atalia scowled. “Someone else got to it first. Traeger is just a simple bandit, but he took up residence in the castle and started calling himself Sir Traeger Highstone. I don’t know how, but he found the relic of dark magic and started using it.”
“What is it?” said Mazael.
“A kalchweisyr,” said Atalia.
“What the devil is that?” said Mazael.
“A sword,” said Atalia. “About the length of a longsword, but thinner. The Dark Elderborn wizards of old designed them to summon and control spirits. Traeger found it, used it, and it promptly drove him insane.”
“Because he isn’t a wizard?” said Gerald.
Atalia shrugged. “Because he’s human, not Dark Elderborn. I don’t think the kalchweisyr was designed to work with human minds. And Traeger hardly possessed a mind of great subtlety to begin with.” She rubbed her jaw. “I think he took Castle Highstone and thought to set himself up as a robber knight. Instead he found the kalchweisyr, and now he thinks he’s going to summon an army of spirits and conquer the world.”
“Can he?” said Mazael.
“Probably not,” said Atalia. “The Dark Elderborn didn’t, and they were far stronger wizards than any human living today. I suspect instead that Traeger will keep summoning more and more powerful spirits until they finally overwhelm him, kill him, and then run amok through the Stormvales. Or he’ll summon up a particularly powerful spirit that will possess him, and it will use its powers to create a realm for itself in the mortal world. Many denizens of the spirit world, alas, are not exactly benevolent.”
“That explains how Sir Traeger ended up with the kalchweisyr,” said Mazael, “but it doesn’t explain how you became Sir Traeger’s herald.”
Atalia smiled. “I lied to him. I came here to destroy whatever source of dark magic was in Castle Highstone. When I found that Traeger had it, I claimed that I had been inspired by his greatness, realized it was his destiny to conquer the world, and that I had come to serve him.”
“He fell for that?” said Mazael.
“Sir Traeger was not exactly a genius,” said Atalia. “I hoped to find a way to get the kalchweisyr away from him, but the opportunity never presented itself. The weapon scared away all of his men, or he killed them in fits of rage, but he always kept the damned thing on him. Then Sir Edmund Redmane blundered into Traeger’s lands, and Traeger’s pet spirits took him hostage. I saw an opportunity…”
“You sent the ransom letter to Lord Malden,” said Mazael. He growled and struck his leg with a fist. “Damn it all, that’s why Trocend came. You signed your name to the letter. That’s why Trocend expected to find you here. He knew all along that this was more than a simple ransom.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” said Atalia. “I hoped to lure Trocend here, and then he could deal with Traeger and destroy the kalchweisyr. Unfortunately, it seems the spirits were more than Trocend could handle.”
“Did Traeger kill Trocend and the armsmen?” said Mazael.
“I don’t know,” said Atalia. “Traeger has been getting worse lately. He’s…not thinking clearly. Maybe he thinks Trocend will join him. Or maybe he thinks to put one of his summoned spirits into Trocend’s body. That would…create a creature of considerable power.”
“And malevolence and insanity, I assume,” said Mazael.
“I fear you are correct,” said Atalia.
“The solution to the problem is simple,” said Mazael.
>
“And just what is that?” said Atalia.
“We kill Traeger, destroy the kalchweisyr, and free the captives,” said Mazael.
Atalia barked out laugh. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” said Mazael. “Do you have a better idea?”
“You are either bold or a madman,” said Atalia.
“Why can’t I be both?” said Mazael. “Can you open the castle gate for us?”
“I could,” said Atalia, “but Traeger has bound spirits to watch over it. They will manifest the minute we cross the gate.”
“Is there another way into the castle?” said Mazael. “A bolt hole, perhaps? Castles always have bolt holes…and I imagine that the Dark Elderborn never built a castle without a secret exit.” He grinned and pointed at her. “And you, Atalia of Knightport, the cautious, clever wizard-thief. I expect the first thing you did was to find a secret exit from Castle Highstone.”
She stared at him in silence for a moment, and then a slow smile spread across her face. “Yes,” she said at last.
“You should show it to me,” said Mazael.
“You might get killed,” said Atalia. “You might get us all killed.”
“Everyone dies,” said Mazael, straightening up. “You came here to prove to Trocend that you were worthy to serve the Lord of Knightcastle. Well, now’s your chance. We might die, yes. Or we could kill Traeger, destroy the kalchweisyr, and free Trocend and Sir Edmund and the others.” He shrugged. “Or you can slip away and scratch out a living selling your spells to the highest bidder. What do you think?”
Gerald looked back and forth between them.
At last Atalia stood, her chest rising and falling against her vest as she drew breath. She was frightened, yes, but there was a bit of steel in her gaze.
“Yes,” she said at last. “Let’s get it over with.”
Chapter 5: Dark Sword
The narrow stone stairs spiraled into the rock of the crag.
Mazael went first, shield upon his arm and sword in his hand. Gerald followed, and Atalia brought up the back. A sphere of pale blue light hovered over her palm, throwing back the gloom and flinging shadows upon the rough rock of the wall. Mazael found the magical light uncanny, but he had to admit it was easier on the eyes than the smoke and flickering glare of torchlight.
The Ransom Knight Page 3